


she walks like a woman

by CaptainAmelia22



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Chain Swords, Drabble, Gen, Teasing and brawling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-07
Updated: 2013-08-07
Packaged: 2017-12-22 17:25:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/916003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainAmelia22/pseuds/CaptainAmelia22
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's an unspoken rule among the rangers of the PPDC:  don't ever diss another ranger's Jaeger.  </p><p>Ever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	she walks like a woman

**Author's Note:**

> This started out as a potential fill for the bingo.
> 
> And then it got fluffy.
> 
> Oops. 
> 
> -M

“I don’t care what Tendo says, _Raleigh,_ that rust bucket of yours doesn’t walk-she _flounces.”_

Chuck Hansen’s voice echoes through the suddenly silent mess hall and Raleigh sighs internally.   _Here we go again_ , he thinks as he shoves yet another forkful of potatoes into his mouth.

He can’t taste them.

And he doesn’t say a word.

His jaw still aches and his shoulder has a funny grinding sound in it now from their tiff earlier; he really should have gone to Gipsy again.  Maybe Mako would have joined them.

 _Does the old girl actually_ flounce? he wonders as he chews.

Yancy’d always told him she walked like she owned the place, the new sheriff in town, and even now he’s adopted her swagger, just like the old days.

Five years out of the saddle and he still remembers how to ride.   

 _She definitely swaggers,_ he tells himself as the Striker Eureka crew assemble behind him and Wei triplets silently judge from afar, how dangerous the situation may become and if they will be needed.

There’s no need.  He can handle anything Striker’s idiot left-hemi throws at him.

“D’ya hear me _Raleigh_ ,” Hansen snarls and Raleigh can just imagine the bastard grinning at him from across the table as he prepares to insult his gir once againl.

Why did he sit with the Australians again?

_Why._

“At least Gipsy doesn’t have cannons for boobs, _Chuck_ ,” he says quietly, through a mouthful of stir-fry and somebody snorts at the table just to their side.

He thinks it might be the Kaidanovsky woman.

He doesn’t get a chance at another mouthful of stir-fry-he barely gets a chance to escape the flipping table-before Chuck Hansen is in his face, snarling curses at him and trying to pound his face in once-and-for-all.

“What did you say about Striker?!” he snarls, Max barking at his heels and Raleigh smiles fiercely, his fork hovering before his lips, laden with potatoes and noodles and he chuckles.

“Didn’t like that, did you Hansen?” he asks as he ducks a sloppy left hook and takes the last bite off of his fork.  “Don’t like it when someone insults your girl, huh?”  He winks at the fiercely grinning Russians and pokes a little harder as the woman translates for her brooding hulk of a partner, who smirks into his beard at her side.  “You have to admit though, her breasts-I mean cannons-are kind of ostentatious.”

Hansen growls and throws another sloppy left hook, which Raleigh parries easily with a bare-knuckled jab at his kidneys and hisses, “At least _my_ Striker doesn’t have a fucking _chain sword.”_

That catches Raleigh off guard.

“What?” he sputters just before a lucky right hook catches him in the temple and he goes dark.  

_Chain sword?!_

_**_

“That’s new,” he mutters a few hours later as sparks rain down around him and Gipsy is slowly brought back online; his head is pounding sickeningly but he can’t rest-won’t rest-until he’s figured out what they’ve done to his girl.   _I’m going to kill Pentecost and Tendo for this,_ he thinks as he runs his hands over cool metal and tries to reassure himself that everything is well and truly okay. “When did-when did that become a thing Gip?”

He can just make out the apparatus that uncoils the rear spinal chain and snaps the links in place, can just make out the shape of the hilt, tucked along Gipsy’s left arm and shoulder.  It’s pretty impressive.

Not as good as chest repulsor cannons though.

Although he’d never admit that to the Australians, not after today.  

“We had so many spare parts tucked away in the Alaska complex, we thought we’d give the old lady a bit of an edge.  Or at least more than she had in the past.  Pretty sweet, right?”

Tendo’s cheerful voice at his back snaps Raleigh back to the present and he frowns as a mug of too-hot black coffee-substitute is thrust into his hands.  “Did you-was that a _pun_ Tendo?” he asks, mock horror in his voice and his old LOCCENT smirks before taking a sip from his own mug.  “Damn brother, it’s the end of the fucking world and you’re making _jokes_.”  

He shakes his head and runs his fingers lovingly over Gipsy’s broad ankle.  “It _is_ pretty sweet though,” he mutters as sparks rain down around them and his old girl slowly comes back to life beneath his palm.   _“_ A _chain_ sword?”

Tendo grins and strokes his sideburns just as lovingly as his old friend strokes their favorite Jaeger and sips the rejuvenating substitute that will never taste as good as a cup of good, black Columbian roast.  “It was either that or groin cannons.”

Raleigh sputters as Tendo chuckles and pats Gipsy’s ankle.  

“Don’t worry Gip,” he mutters as Tendo saunters away.  “I’d never let them do it to you.”      

 _Although...that may take a few Kaiju by surprise_ , he thinks absently to himself as he strides from Gipsy’s bay towards his bunk.

He doesn’t realize until he’s nearly there that he’s walking with a loose-hipped swagger, his steps rolling and long and he sighs before letting himself into his quarters.  

“Hansen was right,” he mutters as he tears his shirt off and throws himself onto his thin mattress.  “Gip kind of flounces when she walks.  Goddammit.”  

It’s not as depressing a realization, though, as finding out your Mark V Jaeger has boob cannons.

He’ll stand by that until Gipsy is sold for scrap and he’s put in a retirement home.

 _Nothing_ is as bad as boob cannons.

Besides, who’s going to protest a massive robot with a plasma cannon _and_ a chain sword?

Even if she does have a bit of a flounce in her gait.  

Nobody in their right fucking mind, that’s for sure.  

  



End file.
